


More

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey realizes something after that first time, and he doesn't know if he likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More

_How could I let this happen? Why can’t I get it out of my mind?_

__

Mickey sat up in his bed and rubbed his hands over his face. The afternoon sun was peeking through his blinds. He hadn’t slept right in days. Not since the day it happened. He tapped his fists on his temples to get the images out of his head, clenching his teeth and grunting in frustration. It was bad enough they crept up on him when he was watching t.v., smoking, in the shower. Now even his dreams weren’t safe. It wasn’t fair. He’d worked so hard to get to where he was, and all it took was ten minutes to shatter it all, sending him back to those first days of uncertainty and shame. And the worst part was he remembered every minute of it. He didn’t want to. He tried not to. He drank, he got high, he drank some more. He threw himself into his dealings on the street, and even made himself fuck not just Angie, but Tina, Jodie and Maureen. Nothing helped. Many times he had to force his hand away, as he thought of anything else but what was plaguing him. But he just couldn’t do it. It was like he wanted to keep thinking of that day. He didn’t want to lose everything he’d felt in that moment, because it had truly been like nothing he’d ever experienced. And now it was driving him crazy.

Mickey got up and started to pace. Back and forth he went across the floor of his room, the place where it happened just a few days ago. He hadn’t bothered fixing any of the things that got knocked over in the fight. He didn’t even want to acknowledge that he still hadn’t changed the sheets. They smelled unmistakably of fast desperation and rough need: sweat and must and cum, not all his own. He’d started to take them off, but convinced himself it would be more work to put different ones on, so he left them. Mickey ended up telling himself a lot of things, just to keep in control, but it didn’t matter what he said. He couldn’t get away from the overwhelming feeling of curiosity the memory caused, or the intense need that seemed to be growing in him. Would it be so bad if he just gave into what he was thinking?

Mickey swiped angrily at the crap on his dresser, sending them clattering to the floor. He threw himself onto the small couch and ran his fingers through his hair gruffly; his leg bounced with nervous exasperation. His palms were sweaty and his breath quick, as he let his mind take over. He remembered the feel of skin sticking and rubbing against his, slick and smooth. The freckled flesh he grabbed at frantically felt too hot and too soft. The pale muscles that clung to him were too hard and too strong. It was too much, yet he pulled their bodies closer because it wasn’t enough. The first contact felt so right, and the first stroke was like fire. He was tight and tense, then loose and relaxed like it was nothing. The movements were slow and fluid, and became fast and erratic. The weight on top of him felt good, and he pushed against it. The way they fit together was like magic, and only made it more unbearably deep and consuming. The pace they kept together made little sparks of electricity flow between them. Their limbs were tangled, as the sounds of ecstasy bounced off the walls. They were wild. It was refreshing and amazing, and when it finally ended a state of extreme bliss settled over them. Every touch, grasp, thrust, sigh, moan and wave of release was so fresh in his mind, it was like it was happening all over again. By the time Mickey opened his eyes, he realized there was no way he could fight it any longer. He pulled on his clothes and grabbed his jacket, practically jittery with excitement. As he walked down the street to where he knew Ian would be, Mickey knew he wanted more.


End file.
